The Wardrobe
by DeadPigeon
Summary: Bill discovers there are ghosts in the Tardis' Wardrobe.


**The Wardrobe**

"So?" Bill asked as she rested her backside against the Tardis console. "Where are we going?"

The Doctor didn't reply to her query right away. He spent the time flipping switches, turning knobs and typing coordinates into the Tardis' 252 key keyboard. As she watched him, she wondered if what he was doing was more for effect than for necessity. _Seriously, what was that key for?_ To her it looked like a turd emoji. _Nah, couldn't be._

"I've discovered a Centennial Bazaar being held on the fifth moon of Predora," he announced.

"A Centennial Bazaar? What's that?"

"It's sort of a gigantic, slightly illegal, yard sale that pops up unannounced once every hundred galactic years. Lasts for about a week, or until the authorities show up and close it down. Missed the last one, I was busy dealing with that pesky Atmos thing at the time." He yanked down on the flight lever and gave the rotor a glance as it started turning.

"Seriously?" Bill was disappointed. "All of time and space and you want to take me to a jumble? I just went to one the other day. Bought this cool shirt there." She popped one of the straps of her snug neon orange tank top.

"Yeah, about that…"

"What's wrong with my shirt?' She cut him off in complaint.

"Nothing…that a jacket wouldn't help. It's gonna be a bit chilly there."

"We still goin' then?"

"Yup."

"Sounds to me like you've already planned on going and I just happen to be along for the ride."

"Yes, well there is something I've been needing to procure for quite a while now, really can't put it off much longer."

"What's that?"

"I need a few pounds of Zeitron-7 ore. Tardis is running a bit low. The bazaar is the best place to find some."

"At a bazaar? Wouldn't you have better luck finding your ore at a mining facility?"

"Well, I would go to back to Varos, but the planet was mined out eons ago. The only place to find any now is on the black market."

Bill couldn't believe what she was hearing "Black market? You called it a yard sale!"

"I did say 'slightly illegal." He smirked at her and glanced at the rotor again as it began to slow.

Bill crossed her arms as a show of disapproval. "I thought you had a moral code? What are you doing buying black market ore?"

The Doctor placed his hands on the console, leaned forward and sighed loudly. "Bill, what I'm looking for is rare…not illegal."

"Oh, ok."

"Ok?" He arched a questioning eyebrow. "Does that mean you want to come along?"

"I will." The corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"I don't want to just _tag along._ I need some…space money; 'cause what if I find something…you know…I just have to have. I can't very well hand them a fiver? "

" _Space money!_ " The Doctor shook his head and stepped towards her; Bill thought he was refusing her request. So what he did next surprised her. He pulled from his coat pocket an object that was about the size and shape of a memory stick and held it up. She could see it was smooth and gold and etched on one side with a series of glyphs.

"One thing." He said.

"What thing?"

"You can buy one thing, that's it," he held it out to her.

She took it from his hand. "Cool!"

"Now go get a jacket from the Wardrobe. Chop chop!" He shooed her off towards the Tardis corridor.

The Doctor was never one to sit still and he paced the console room while he waited. He was into his twenty second circumference around the console ( _yes, he kept count)_ when he heard her returning footsteps reverberating on the stairs. He looked over and…

"No, no no no.! Uh uh.!" He hurried over and blocked her way at the top of the stair.

Bill stepped back down a riser, surprised by his sudden and vehement approach. "What did I do?" Her voiced piqued defensively.

"You're not wearing that!"

Bill grabbed at the lapels of the jacket she had put on. "What's wrong with this? It goes with my shirt." Whatever his problem was with the jacket she'd chosen, she could tell by the look on his face it was making him uncomfortable.

"It…it's embarrassing."

Bill laughed. "Yeah, it's a little loud, but I'm not embarrassed to wear it."

She watched as the Doctor closed his eyes and began tapping his fingers against the flat of his forehead. "No no no no no no." When then covered his face with his hands, the penny dropped.

"You're not embarrassed for me." She heard him sigh through his hands. "You're the one who's embarrassed." And a pregnant pause later Bill realized. "Oh my god! She looked down again at the loud, patchwork, technicolor jacket she was wearing. "This is yours!"

She said it so loud that the Doctor was sure everyone in the neighboring galaxy must have heard. He groaned and Bill laughed. _Oops, big mistake!_ When the Doctor removed his hands from his face, he was in full glare mode. She instinctively took another step back down the stairs. He noticed and started down after her, arm outstretched and finger pointing at her like a dagger.

"Back! Go back and find something else; you're not wearing that."

Bill threw up her hands in defense as she stutter stepped back down the stairs. "Ok…ok! Geez, didn't know I'd hit a sore spot." She turned round at the bottom of the stairs and headed back to the Wardrobe. She could hear the Doctor's boots clomping at her heels. When they passed through the door, Bill slid out of the jacket and handed it to him.

"Here you go."

He wouldn't touch it. "Just put it back where you got it from and go and find something else." He waved her off with the back of his hand.

She gave him a terse, "I will." and headed off to an over-stuffed clothes rack located about twenty meters in from the door. She pried out a clothes hanger and a pair of pants hanging from it that matched the jacket snagged on the other clothes crammed in the rack and then flopped down on to the floor. Bill picked them up, but not without comment as she held the pants up to scrutiny. "You've certainly lost a lot of weight."

"They're not mine!" He snapped.

She was confused. "But I thought…"

"Well, they were mine, but they're not mine."

Now, she was totally confused. "Well either they are, or they aren't. Which is it?"

The Doctor frowned and squeezed his lips tightly together. He hadn't yet told Bill about his ability to regenerate and he really didn't want to have that conversation yet. "It's complicated," he replied.

Bill was disappointed. "That's seems to be your standard answer when it comes to answering personal questions about yourself."

"When you've lived as long as I have, some answers are more complicated that you could possibly realize."

"Alright. I'll accept that…for now." She hung the Doctor's technicolor coat and pants back on the hanger and crammed them back into the rack. "I'll go and find something else then."

"Good. You do that." He spotted a small stool near the door and sat down. "I'll wait here."

Bill headed off down a tightly spaced aisle in search of a promising looking rack. She didn't have to go far. _For a man, he's got way too may women's clothes!_ It was just another question she'd probably get no answer to; he'd just give her another lame-ass excuse. "Ah, cool!" A black silken jacket covered in numerous buttons and badges caught her eye. It suited her 'retro' style and it was a perfect fit. Hopefully she could keep this one. When she arrived back at the front of the room, she did a quick spin. "Wa'd ya think?"

As soon as the back of the jacket and the big bold word ACE flashed across his vision, the Doctor put his head in his hands again. _Great, we've moved on from embarrassment to guilt!_ By the time she'd spun back around Bill knew she'd made things worse. He was silently shaking his head. She tossed an apologetic "Sorry!" over her shoulder and headed back into the maze of racks.

Her next find was a short lightweight purple cotton jacket. The color was perfect. She carried it back and held it up to the Doctor. "How about this?" He didn't have to reply. The shocked look on his face said it all. She quickly turned around and scurried back into the maze.

Bill let her hand run lazily across rack after rack, feeling wool and silk and cotton and…her hand stopped. "Leather!" She slipped the black jacket from its hanger and felt its weight as it dangled from her left hand. _Definitely not pleather!_ She put it on. It had a nice form fitting cut, with wide studded lapels and a zipper that ran up the left side and snug the jacket even tighter when it was closed. The sleeves were made to be short and they were un-cuffed and loose fitting. _Nice!_ She buckled up the jackets dangling bottom strap as she headed back towards the Doctor. When she found him, his hands were no longer hiding his face but he was now hunched over, resting with his elbows on his knees and his head hanging down. Bill wondered for a moment if he was deep in thought or just staring at the floor. She cleared her throat to get his attention. "Ahem."

When the Doctor looked up, Bill thought his eyes were going to pop out and roll across the floor at her. And when he slapped his hands to his face again, she thought, _Maybe he's trying to push them back in?_ He then threw back his head and groaned. "Arrrrgghhh!" _Yep, definitely. Pushing 'em back in!_ Or so she tried to convince herself.

The Doctor popped up out of his chair and approached her with a run on sentence of questions and complaint. "Did Nardol put you up to this, what's he been telling you, Oh, that meddling monstrosity has really gone too gar this time, doesn't he know I'm under enough stress as it is, I don't need this…this….this…!" He was now vigorously gesticulating at the jacket and Bill realized she'd better get out of it, now!

She tugged down the zipper and defended herself in the process. "I don't know what you're talking about? I'm just trying to find a jacket!" The zipper stopped at the lower belt she'd forgotten to unbuckle. _Damn!_

The Doctor became demanding. "Take it off, right now!"

She fumbled with the buckle. "I am, I am!"

He stepped behind her and began tugging it down her shoulders. Luckily, she had it opened and unzipped before the jacket reached her elbows. Bill turned around. She was more than ready to let him have it, but when she saw the expression on his face, she stopped herself. He didn't look angry. She expected angry…not sad. _He was more than sad. He was grieving._ She hadn't expected that.

"I'm so sorry." Bill thought her condolence sounded mediocre, but it was all she had.

Tightly grasping the jacket the Doctor turned away and took several steps over to a nearby rack. He pulled a coat off its hanger and handed it to Bill. "Here, you can wear this." Her eyes flew wide this time. He'd handed her a furry mud grey coat that looked like it came from a Yeti. She accepted the proffered jacket and bit back a 'road-kill' comment that would have definitely been inappropriate. But as good as she may have been at filtering out that snide remark; she could never stop with the questions.

"Who was she?"

The Doctor replied quietly, almost reverently before he strode from the room. "She was my wife."

Bill hung back. She knew better than to keep pestering him. He'd reply in his own time; so she spent the next few minutes checking out the coat in the wardrobe's five sided mirror. _Road-kill, definitely road-kill."_ She sighed aloud and made her way back to the console room. She found him sitting in one of the jump seats with the jacket draped across his knees. A quick look was the only acknowledgement he gave to her return. She sat down on the edge of the seat opposite him and waited. And waited. And waited. It was a wait she couldn't possibly win.

"So…is that your wedding ring?" His thumb had been fiddling with it, probably unconsciously, and it seemed like the best way for her to break the silence and segue back to the subject of his wife.

"Astute observation, Miss Potts."

 _Uh oh. Formal address. Definitely a touchy subject._ She pressed on anyway. "Is she the woman in the picture? You know…the one on your desk…with the fabulous hair?"

He ran his hand slowly across the jacket. "Yesss."

"How long were you together?"

The Doctor sighed and stood up. He wasn't about to play twenty questions, especially not about River. He carefully laid the jacket in his seat and turned to Bill. "Twenty four years, a thousand years, a billion years..." he waved a hand about, "… it's all the same inside the time vortex."

"What happened to her?"

His features became pinched and Bill was worried she'd pushed too much. When he spoke, he only said one word.

"Time."

"Time?"

"Yes," he said, his demeanor suddenly changing. "It's time that we got going." He headed towards the door but stopped as he passed next to her. "You wearing that?"

She clutched at the coat he'd given her "Wha…?"

"It looks like something that died."

Bill stood up defiantly. "You gave this to me!"

"Did I? Well, maybe you can find something better at the bazaar." He headed to the door.

"Does that mean I can buy two things?"

He stopped with his hand on the door and looked back at her. "What?"

"You said I could buy one thing. What if I find something that's better than a coat? I mean, I wouldn't want to blow my one purchase on a coat, but if you'd rather I find something better to wear…I suppose…"

"All right, all right! He held up his fingers. "Two things. That's it."

She grinned. "Good, cause I really hate this coat."

The Doctor gave her a smirk and headed outside.

Bill shoved her hands into the jackets fir lined pockets and followed him out. "Hey! What's this?" Her hand found something in one of the pockets. She pulled it out. It was a wooden flute. "Is this yours?" She called out to him while running to catch up.

He saw what she was waving. "Yes."

"I didn't know you played?"

"I don't. I play the guitar; you know that."

He was confusing her again. "Ok."

He took the flute from her hand and played a few notes of Pop Goes the Weasel before handing it back.

"This is another one of those mine not mine things, isn't it?"

He just tapped his nose. "Did you know that bazaar is the Persian word for market?


End file.
